


put the world on mute, i'll still come home to you

by becamitchill



Category: Pitch Perfect (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Deaf Character, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, F/F, Hurt/Comfort, M for themes not smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-16
Updated: 2020-04-16
Packaged: 2021-03-01 20:20:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 19,238
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23693029
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/becamitchill/pseuds/becamitchill
Summary: Beca loses her hearing during her senior year.
Relationships: Chloe Beale/Beca Mitchell
Comments: 20
Kudos: 155





	1. the cacophony of silence

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by captainpeachperfect’s gifsets ‘sound’. Thank you for creating this idea and thank you for letting me write a story out of it. I apologize for taking so long (5 years, y'all). I’ve had a weird writing journey over the years, but I feel like I'm finally getting back into the groove. 
> 
> A lot of this story is filled with angst and pain, but I will let you know right now that there is a happy ending to this without Beca getting her hearing back. I’m not part of the d/Deaf/HoH community, so I tried my best with researching d/Deaf/HoH aspects of this and of course I’m completely and totally open to learning more about the community.
> 
> This is intended to be a one-shot, but I'm aware not everyone wants to or can read 19K in one go, so I will be separating this into two "chapters".

Music has always been around Beca as far back as she can remember. She lives and breathes it; in case being a part of the Bellas wasn’t a good enough of an example. 

Her earliest memory of music (a memory that still leaves a slightly bitter taste in her mouth), was when her parents were still together. They were set up in the first house Beca had ever known. With a pair of socks and the hardwood flooring, it made for some great times while listening to music and even though she’s not exactly sure how old she was (maybe five), she clearly remembers her father cranking up some song that had an upbeat tempo. Her mother swears it was I’m Your Man, while her father offhandedly mentioned it was September (not that it should be something that matters). She remembers her parents getting along that day, sliding around with her on the wood, swinging their arms around. It’s a memory where half of her cringes and wants to forget because it feels like it’s a lie with everything that followed those days. The other half of her wants to keep that memory tucked away for the days she’s being melodramatic about her early childhood.

Which apparently happens more often than Beca likes to think, according to Chloe. 

Nonetheless, whether it creates memories that make her inwardly smile, or it causes her to get teary-eyed during a dumb movie; or keep her head level; or literally every other situation in her life, music has been there for her. 

Her mother always said that was one great thing about her, even if there were a lot of things her mother and she did not agree on. It was that music was fantastic for her. It kept her out of trouble during those “very important growth” years because “unlike other kids” (her mother’s words, not hers) who were getting high or drunk at parties, smoking cigarettes under the football bleachers, or any other shenanigans, Beca had her head stuck in music. And sure, that kind of thing got her into trouble during class because she had been wearing headphones before, during, and after class, but her mother argued that’s better than getting into illegal trouble.

That kind of love turned into a passion her sophomore year of high school when she discovered mashups and remixes on YouTube that broke music down for her in new ways. It was from there that she started looking at more genres and spending hours in her room trying to play two tracks at once that sounded good together. It took practice, she isn’t going to lie about that, and a lot of sleepless nights trying to figure out a mixing board she bought the summer before her junior year of high school; but it paid off. 

And even though she came kicking and screaming to Barden, she joined the Bellas (and they have been dominating by the way), and found her way again through music. Which has given her countless opportunities like this internship at Residual Heat and hopefully kick off her career. Which is why getting a double ear infection with a cold is such a downer. It leaves Beca turning everything down and shutting off the music that’s always playing in the house because she’s left with a pounding headache.

Beca is not the greatest when it comes to being sick. She’s almost the complete opposite of Chloe, who is a near saint when sick. Beca complains and groans until she’s given attention and then refuses treatment just to be stubborn. She doesn’t like lying under a million blankets to sweat it off, or drink a bunch of orange juice, or even water. Don’t even get her started on taking the antibiotics because those things are like horse pills and they leave a bad taste in her mouth. 

Chloe calls her petulant and has to cut those pills in half with a pill cutter. 

Beca likes to think she’s being reasonable enough just by staying in bed for most of the day. 

The good thing is the Bellas are performing at the Kennedy Center tomorrow so she’ll finally be doing something. Plus, classes will be starting again soon so Chloe won’t be able to hold the “stay in bed because there’s not much to do anyway, Becs” over her head anymore. 

Except, the Kennedy performance is so not what any of them had planned it being. Especially Chloe, who is currently pacing the waiting room to the Dean’s office. 

“Chloe, chill out. It was a mistake, they’re not gonna burn us for witchcraft.” 

Chloe is still freaking out and Beca tries to rationalize, but there are two things wrong with that: one, she’s not entirely in the mood anymore to be waiting for Dean because, seriously, her ears are still bothering her and they’re starting to ring, and two, she knows Chloe isn’t ready to move on from the Bellas if they get penalized the way Chloe’s thinking they will be. Which is where most of their arguments have been stemming from lately, or arguments to be had (it can be added to the pile along with Chloe failing Russian Lit three times just to stay because “I can’t just leave!” “Why not?” “I just can’t!”). Apparently it’s “the worst thing that’s ever happened to us. Ever.” 

Flo makes an offhand comment and then finally the Dean’s assistant tells them “the Dean is ready for you tramps.”

But of freaking course Chloe’s right and it actually is the worst thing to ever happen to the Bellas because apparently the Bellas are over. Which doesn’t bother her as much as it should. It would give her time to focus on her future– her internship more importantly. It would mean Chloe would have to focus on school and graduate, and maybe consider what post-college will mean for them as a couple. It would still suck if this is how the Bellas went out; a la Amy showing the President, and any anyone watching, her vagina. 

Bless Chloe though because she’s always on top of things, always ready to keep fighting. 

“What if we win it?” Beca challenges, when it’s obvious no one cares about the Puppy Bowl. 

Of course they laugh at the idea, but Beca’s entirely sure it can’t be that hard. 

* * *

Her internship kicks her in the ass. She spills coffee on herself twice and she feels like a chicken with her head cut off from all the running around she does. She sits idly in the corner, watching a worker make a fool of himself which is kind of cool, but does not make up for the fact that she later has to make some ridiculous dinner runs for various things. 

(Seriously, a mayo and red pepper sandwich should be a sin)

Beca hadn’t really expected that paying her dues also meant getting in a ridiculous amount of steps and stairs and suddenly she’s grateful for the routine cardio Chloe forces upon the Bellas. Seeing a text from Chloe makes her feel a little better about it all. 

> **Chloe** : we have a new bella!!!!!!!! 
> 
> she’s a LEGacy

Chloe assures her it’ll get better, but Beca’s not entirely sure about that.

“Are you feeling better? Internship wise and cold wise?” Chloe asks her later at the Treble party. 

Beca simply waves her off, “I feel fine.” 

Ultimately, that’s the worst part. She’s lying to Chloe and she hates lying to Chloe. Her ears are still sore, the roof of her mouth itches, and her throat feels scratchy. But she mostly feels like she just needs to suck it up and keep going. Besides, there are more important things to worry about. Like coming up with ways to convince Chloe it’s time to move on from Barden without getting into an argument about it. 

* * *

It’s not looking good after DSM performs and it’s even worse when she starts tripping over her words because of some German woman and she knows she’s going to be in the dog house tonight with the way Chloe side-eyes her. So she leaves the rest of the talking to Chloe, letting her handle it. But then Kommissar insults her height and she just loses it. Even if Das Sound Machine is intimidating (and tall), there’s nothing the Bellas haven’t overcome before, so screw them. 

Even so, “We literally have nothing to lose!” 

She knows that for sure, even if she isn’t entirely sure what she’s doing at this very moment with her hands and her mouth. Because seriously, “Aca wiedersehen bitches”? As if she weren’t awkward enough with the compliments earlier, her hands flail around. Her hands go to her head and push her hair back. Seriously, what is happening to her? She blames this on her cold; not being clear-headed. 

Suddenly there’s a loud, high pitched ringing in her left ear and she presses her hands into her ears.

“Beca?”

“Uh-huh.” Beca grimaces, gritting her teeth. She tells herself it’s just part of getting over an ear infection, so she pushes her hair back in hopes of hiding her pain. 

“Are you okay?” Chloe asks gently, brow furrowed and lips pursed. 

Beca looks at Chloe wide-eyed and nods.

“Hey, guys?” Emily’s voice is muffled and Beca has to turn her head to understand clearly, “What are we gonna do? They were amazing.” 

Beca furrows her brother when Emily’s voice sounds distant even though she’s standing right next to her. 

“We’ll figure it out.” Chloe sounds loud and clear. “We always do.” Chloe gives an affirming nod, her lips pressing into a thin line. 

Beca furrows her brow. 

“Something wrong Becs?” 

“I-” Beca starts, unsure what to say. She doesn’t think it’s anything serious, maybe just drainage from the ear infection. She tells herself that it’s totally not a big deal, but she can see the worry on Chloe’s face. “Uh, can’t hear out of my left ear. I’m sure,” she shrugs, one shoulder inching higher than the other, “it’s, you know-” she looks anywhere but Chloe, noticing the other girl’s look slightly concerned as well, “the ear infection.” she looks back at Chloe, watching blue eyes dart back and forth, “Or whatever.” She scoffs, “It’s not a big deal.” 

“I thought you said it cleared up.” Stacie points out, her arm coming uncrossed to lift in the air, wrist bent, and hand drawing a circle. 

“It’s-”

“We should get you to see your doc-” Chloe interrupts.  
  
“What?” Beca furrows her brow, crossing her arms. “No. We’re not- that’s not- no. Guys,” she uncrosses her arms, arms sticking out a bit and hands parallel with the ground as they lift up to make a point in her words. “I’m fine.” She looks back and forth between the girls, “Seriously. Let’s just go and figure out how we’re gonna kick Das Sound Machine’s ass.” 

When they get back home, Beca still can’t hear out of her left ear, which may or may not be a blessing considering Flo seemed to mumble the entire way back. 

“Hey,” Chloe looks at her when they get to Beca’s door, “are you sure you’re okay?” 

Beca gives a slight nod, “I’m great.” A lie.

“Can you hear out of your left ear any better?” Chloe steps into Beca’s space and she can tell that Chloe just wants to reach out to her, but she’s hesitating. 

“No, but, hey.” Beca assures, putting hands awkwardly on Chloe’s arms. “I’m sure it’s just part of, you know-” she shrugs, “getting over the ear infection.” She’s not sure if that’s entirely true, but she’s just gonna roll with it. Her eyes widen a little at her own hands, fumbling to find the right spot to rest her hands on Chloe, eventually settling for Chloe’s shoulders. 

Chloe smiles, “If you’re sure.” 

“Totes.” Beca smiles. 

“Good.” Chloe’s face then drops, brows furrowing, eyes narrowing, lips forming a frown, “Because what the hell happened to you out there today?” Chloe’s finger pushes into Beca’s shoulder.

“Hey!” Beca pulls her hands back, arms up defensively. 

“Beca Mitchell, you’re sexually confused?” Chloe’s arms span out to either side of her. 

“Hey.” Beca grabs at Chloe’s wrists, pulling her arms back down to her sides.

Chloe frowns more, pulling out of Beca’s grasp. “Physically flawless?” She crosses her arms.

Beca can see Emily awkwardly shuffling into her room across from Chloe’s. She grabs blindly for the doorknob behind her, twisting it when she finds her grasp on it. She leans back onto her heels, pulling Chloe into the room with her. “Hey-” 

Chloe turns around, walking towards the bed with crossed arms before turning around to face Beca, “Are you kidding me?” 

Beca cringes, “Okay,” she shuts the door with her weight as she presses her back into the door, hands in front of her, palms facing Chloe. “Seriously, I’m sorry.” She takes a breath, taking a step towards Chloe who still has her eyes narrowed. “I didn’t mean to, like, you know-” she cringes at her own words because of course her brain has to be malfunctioning when she needs to properly apologize, “upset you.”

Chloe huffs, eyes looking anywhere but Beca. Her arms shift and her arms tighten, fingers tapping against her arms. 

“I guess, you know, I just freaked ‘cause I normally am not-” she gestures absentmindedly with her hands, fingers flexing, “attracted to-” she cringes, “women?” 

Chloe’s face softens, eyes catching Beca’s. Her arms drop to her sides and she takes a hesitant step forward, looking at Beca’s hands before taking them in her own. 

“I just flipped out okay?” Beca looks at their hands. Chloe’s hands are, surprisingly, always cold and Beca will never get over that considering how warm of a person Chloe is. Chloe mentioned that her hands have always been cold because of poor circulation which she gets from her father. Beca, on the other hand, likes to think it’s because of that old saying ‘cold hands, warm heart’. Which really has no science behind it. But, then again, Beca’s never been good at science. 

She feels Chloe pull her hand away and it returns to her cheek. Beca looks up and that’s when Chloe catches her by surprise and kisses her.

It’s not angry and hasty, it’s soft and slow, gentle. 

“Seriously, Chloe,” Beca rests her forehead against Chloe’s, hands awkwardly fumbling with Chloe’s shirt, “I’m sorry.” She opens her eyes and finds Chloe already looking back at her. 

“Just don’t let it happen again.” Beca’s not sure how to read Chloe’s tone. It sounds irritated but at the same time, it sounds gentle. She’s not what to pinpoint it as until it hits her and then she can’t help but smirk. 

“If I’m reading this right, it sounds like you’re...” Beca pauses, letting out a small breath of laughter, “jealous.” She puts hands firmly on Chloe’s hips, fingers no longer playing with the silk-like material. 

Chloe’s eyes trail down, hands trailing up to tap against Beca’s clavicle. Her lower lip pushes out gently, twisting off to the side a bit. “So what if I am?” Chloe’s eyes return to Beca’s, brow raising challengingly. 

“Well, then I guess I just gotta prove to you that you have nothing to fear.” Beca brings her hands to either side of Chloe’s face. “Because I’ve got, like, the hottest, most drop-dead gorgeous person in front of me.” 

Chloe raises her brow, “Drop dead gorgeous?” She leans forward, lips just barely touching Beca’s lips. 

“Physically flawless.” 

* * *

It’s odd waking up. Not in the sense that it’s Monday and this time she can’t sleep in. No, rather, she can clearly hear Stacie’s workout music, but she can barely hear her own alarm going off next to her. She turns her head, the sound of Stacie’s music dying out and her alarm coming in clearer. She glares at the phone, picking it up and placing it close to her left ear. However, it’s not blasting her ear off, instead, it’s quiet, like she can barely hear it. Putting it to her right ear, it’s loud and clear. 

“What are you doing?” 

Beca nearly drops her phone, “Jesus!” She looks over at Chloe, mouth going dry at the sight of Chloe’s taught stomach, sweaty, and her disheveled ponytail from her work out. “Jesus.” She mutters before looking at her phone, “Nothing.” 

Chloe grins that mischievous grin that means she’s up to something. She walks towards Beca with a slowness, giving a specific sway of her hips. “You sure?” 

Beca forces her eyes to stay up until she realizes she’s allowed to look. That this is Chloe, her Chloe. Humming, her hand reaches out, gripping at Chloe’s hip, “Just can’t hear out of my left ear, but I’m starting to worry less about-” she pauses, looking up at Chloe, “that.” 

Chloe leans forward, “What do you mean?” Her brow knits together, her hands at Beca’s cheeks.

“I mean-” Beca clears her throat, “exactly what I’m saying.” 

Chloe pulls away, rather quickly, spinning towards her closet and grabbing clothes. “You’re going to a doctor later.” 

Beca scoffs, “Dude, no.” 

“Dude, yes.” Chloe turns around, giving Beca something near a glare– a warning, one that precedes a threat of no sex for a week. “You are going.”

Beca rolls her eyes, “Fine, I’ll go after classes.” 

* * *

Growing up, Beca didn’t often see a doctor unless something was required, such as a vaccine or the time she got an x-ray on her wrist after falling on it at her cousin’s deck, when she was seven. Her father argued doctors were just there to tell you there’s something wrong with you to gain money. Her mother had a strong belief that any ailment could be cured with water and the right kind of chili. So those minimal visits involving shots and casts had drawn her to the idea that doctors were just there to cause pain; even if rationally, as Beca got older, it made less and less sense. 

Throughout the years–and Bella–hospital visits may or may not have been at least a yearly thing to do. There was that one time during her sophomore year she slipped and cracked her head at a Treble party when Chloe was trying to drag her into the pool (Chloe waited on her hand and foot when Beca was released from the hospital to make up for it). Sure, she had to be poked with a needle when she went in for her cracked skull, but that only helped relieve the pain. Or the time one of Benji’s magic tricks when seriously wrong (no more pyrotechnics for him– ever). There was also the time Jesse’s foot got run over by Bumper when they helped Bumper move into his apartment. None of those visitations ever went sour, nor did Beca ever see her friends in pain. In fact, it was the opposite. So, yeah, Beca has a better understanding that doctors aren’t there just to cause pain. 

“We’ll do some steroid injections,” The doctor leans back into his chair after looking in her ear, “to keep your ears from getting worse and,” He swivels in his chair towards his computer, “hopefully, bring back most of your hearing back in the other ear.” 

Beca can’t help but smile, toothy and wide, “Are you serious?” 

The doctor dips his head to the side a little, “Well, it’s not a guarantee but, there’s a very high success rate.” He looks back at her and smiles. 

  
Beca doesn’t care about the low chance, she’s going to get her hearing back in her left ear and keep it in her right. 

* * *

Except, when Beca wakes up the next morning, the world is foggy – almost like there’s water in her ears and she can’t shake it out. It’s worse than yesterday. She can’t hear the air running and she can’t hear the everyday Bellas’ house sounds clearly. Everything is muffled and she can faintly hear Chloe say “good morning.” 

“I can barely hear you,” Beca mumbles, staring at the ceiling, willing herself not to panic. 

Except she is panicking because she can lose hearing in one ear, but the other is– well, she can’t even put into words how awful that would be. So without hesitation, when Chloe suggests going to Urgent Care to get someone to check it out now, she pulls her coat over herself. She buries her hands into the pockets, before pulling them out, and awkwardly clenching them and then un-clenching them. She looks at Chloe, tightening her jaw, clenching until her teeth press against each other almost painfully. 

“It’s going to be okay,” Chloe assures, watching Beca as she grabs her car keys laying in the bowl on the tiny, black table against the wall by the door. 

“You-” She chokes on her words, wondering for a moment if she’s being too loud, “don’t know that.” 

Chloe stays quiet and, briefly, Beca wonders if she was being too quiet. 

Beca lets her eyes drift off towards Stacie and Emily at the couch, looking at her with worry. When she makes the connection with Emily, Emily looks at the ground, fingers tapping against her arm where it’s holding her other arm. Amy isn’t making any quirks and Beca knows that means things are way more serious than she wants them to be. She gets what Chloe’s trying to do; she’s trying to assure everyone else that it’s going to be okay because that’s what co-captains do, keep the team from worrying about the little things so they can focus on the bigger issues at hand. Not that this isn’t a big deal, but she knows Chloe (the ever-optimistic), isn’t concerned and fully believes there’s a solution to this.

Beca isn’t so much of an optimist, she likes to think realistically. Maybe even a bit more glass half empty type at times. But, if Chloe believes they should put a brave face in front of the other Bellas, then damn it, that’s what she’ll do. So she nods, gives them assurance, and then heads out the door. 

* * *

They run test after test.

Chloe keeps showing Beca the time and so far, it’s been an hour and a half. 

Beca fumbles with her hands and constantly looks over at Chloe, who’s sitting in a purple chair across from her. She looks down at the bench, a color that is very close to the color of Chloe’s eyes, blue speckles scattered all over it. 

And when the waiting comes, Beca gets anxious, fingers drumming against the bench before curling inwards, forming a fist. She rests her hands in her lap, looking over at the walls. She notices across in the corner with a gold Jesus hanging on it. Briefly, she remembers Chloe taking her to parent’s church last Christmas, a church Chloe used to attend regularly before her high school years. She remembers looking out through the stained glass windows, while the choir and band sang, looking at the images made of geometric shapes and thick black lines to separate the colors, creating people from the Bible. 

Her thoughts are brought back by unknown, brown shoes entering her field of vision while staring at the floor. She trails her eyes up dark slacks and a white coat, finding an apologetic smile.

Her stomach sinks to the floor from that look. It’s the same look her father gave her when he left her mother. That’s the same look she’s seen Chloe’s hamster’s vet give when Sir Gerbil died. It’s the same look Chloe gives her when she’s made the wrong decision but is trying to be supportive. 

“There’s been some connective tissue damage to your ears, likely from the ear infection. It’s rare, but it does happen where you can experience sudden hearing loss.”

The words die off after that. She starts trying to wrap her head around those words, those three words which make her life feel like it’s crashing into a million tiny pieces she’ll have no way of putting back together. Time feels like it slows down and suddenly the only thing Beca can focus on is her surroundings. 

Beca watches as the doctor’s lips move, how his nose twists with his mouth when it moves to the side, continuing to explain what’s going on. He fixes his glasses on his face, fingers pressing into the black frames before his hands start gesturing while he talks. She looks to Chloe, watching as her eyes glass over with tears. Chloe’s eyes are turning red, tears welling up and Beca watches the way Chloe’s lip trembles, how they twist in what Beca assumes is a protest to whatever she’s hearing because then Chloe frowns with a shake of her head.

She catches a few words: “steroids”, “damaged”, “too long” and starts digging her fingers into the bench.

His head moves to look at her, looking like he’s at a loss, hands flopping down to his sides and head hanging just ever so slightly. His eyes cast down towards her where she’s fumbling with the rough paper on the bench. She clenches her jaw tightly, refusing to let the shake of his head break her in half. She refuses to let any of this break her in half; especially here in the room of the hospital. 

“I’m sorry, the damage is permanent and will likely progress.” 

The words finally cut her in half.

* * *

Beca spends the rest of her day holed up in her room, not Chloe’s - which is where she usually sleeps and really should just become her and Chloe’s room - she spends her time listening to her favorite artists and bands. Sometimes it’s easy to hear, sometimes it’s more challenging. Eventually, she turns it up so loud the bass feels like it’s thumping against her chest. 

She moves to her desk to use her Launch pad, but comes up with nothing when her fingers hover over the pads. Letting out a sigh, she pushes her chair back to lay her head on the desk, fidgeting with the cords that connect all her devices together. 

Usually, times of pain bring out some of her best work, but right now all Beca can think about is the future. All she can think about is the fact that she’ll never hear sounds of music again, she won’t be able to hear the Bellas sing, won’t hear Chloe’s laughter, she won’t hear Jesse’s bad jokes or hear the Bellas banter. She won’t hear the things she’s come to love, and maybe the idea that she’s going to lose all of those things that she never–at least as a freshman–ever wanted to get attached too, is what breaks her the most. It’s these things she hadn’t anticipated being afraid to lose staring back at her and it’s terrifying. 

The desk is wet before Beca even realizes she’s crying and she quickly moves away to avoid causing damage to her equipment. Bringing her hands to her face, she furiously wipes at the falling tears, but they just keep falling and eventually, Beca presses her fingers against her forehead, forming fists as she presses the heel of her palm into her cheekbones. Feeling a cry in her throat escape, Beca immediately shuts her mouth. She’s not going to cry when she still has some of her hearing. 

Instead, she goes to Chloe’s room. Chloe’s sitting on her bed with notes from class scattered around her. Her brow furrows as she focuses on her work, pencil waving around as she writes. 

Beca timidly knocks on the already opened door, croaking out, “Hey.” 

Chloe looks up with a soft smile, “Hey, Becs.” She sounds underwater, slightly muffled. 

Beca shuffles towards the bed, making a split-second decision to sit in Chloe’s lap instead of on the bed. She feels Chloe’s arms wrap around at her waist, thumbs brushing against her skin between her shirt and jeans in a soothing motion. “Can you sing for me?” 

“Do you have any requests?” Chloe gently asks, her hand coming up to move some hair out of Beca’s face. 

Beca just shakes her head. “Anything.” 

Chloe places a soft kiss to Beca’s temple before humming.“You shout it loud, but I can’t hear a word you say.” 

Beca listens as Chloe keeps the song slow, turning the originally club-like anthem into a ballad and she wants to laugh at the memory of Chloe bursting into her shower years ago, but all she can think about is that this may be the last time she hears Chloe sing. 

“I'm talking loud, not saying much. Criticized, but all your bullets ricochet.” 

She clings to Chloe as she sings, resting her forehead against Chloe’s shoulder. 

“Please tell me you’re going to graduate,” Beca asks as she lifts her head from Chloe’s shoulder when Chloe’s done singing, long after she’s been running her fingers through Beca’s hair. 

Chloe looks up at her, brow furrowed and lips pursed. Beca knows it’s a sore subject, knows that Chloe wants to stay at Barden for as long as she can. 

“Look, Chloe-” Beca moves to make room on the bed, noticing Chloe’s not even looking at school notes; rather, music sheets to prepare a setlist. It causes Beca to groan with frustration. It’s become tiring and Beca’s running out of reasons to stay calm about everything. She needs Chloe to graduate, needs Chloe to come with Beca to wherever she’s going to end up next because she’s not sure if LA is the way to go if she’s going to lose her hearing. “You can’t just not graduate again!” She snaps, balling her hands into fists. She clenches them several times before releasing a huff of air, looking at Chloe who looks like she just got slapped.

“Barden is all I know and-” 

Beca shakes her head, “No, Chloe, you have to graduate. You really do now because I can’t- I’m losing everything and-” she trails off not entirely sure where she’s going with this. After being with Chloe for three years she thinks she should be able to explain herself, but right now she can’t. “I’m losing everything. I-” Beca chokes, looking at Chloe with desperation, “you need to get your shit together.” 

Chloe frowns, moving the papers off of the bed. Beca watches as she crawls forward, hands reaching out. Beca instinctively grabs them, shaking her head. “I need you to do this for us.” 

“Okay.” she answers, clearly thinking over her next words, “But, Beca, you aren’t losing everything.” Chloe’s thumbs rub against the tops of Beca’s hands. “I’m not going anywhere and neither are the girls. You have your family and Jesse. This isn’t the end. You’re not dying, Beca.” 

She knows Chloe means well, but right now that’s what Beca feels like she’s doing. 

* * *

Beca wakes up to nothing - and by nothing, she means the lack of sound. There’s no sound of Stacie and Emily making coffee downstairs while blasting nineties music. There’s no sound of Chloe getting ready for her early morning run. She can’t hear the arguments between Amy and CR in the bathroom, and there’s no Jessica and Ashley harmonizing together along to the music. 

It’s silent.

Panic washes over her and she sits up in the bed, looking over at Chloe who looks at her with worry; brow furrowed, yet raised ever so slightly, lips parting to form a small ‘o’-shape. Beca watches as Chloe’s lips move but no sound pulls through. 

Beca shakes her head, pressing her hands to her face.

She jumps slightly at an unexpected hug and she moves her arms to wrap around Chloe, pulling her closer and pressing her face into Chloe’s shoulder. 

Beca doesn’t cry though, she’s not sure she can. 

She doesn’t get out of bed except to go to the bathroom and when her stomach is begging her to eat something at around four in the afternoon. Since Chloe’s exceptionally busy with classes today (Wednesdays are days Beca usually doesn’t hear or see Chloe until late in the evening) it’s even easier to avoid the rest of the girls, easy to pretend they don’t even exist. Mostly, she just stares at the ceiling in wonder of how she got to be in this position - how much she hates everything right now. 

It’s dark outside when she feels a gentle hand on her back and even though she knows it’s Chloe coming back from her evening classes, she still jerks away in anger. 

She wants to wake up. This is a dream, she tells herself. A nightmare. She’s sick of it, she’s done participating and she’s ready to wake up.

She brings her hands to her face, fingers digging into her forehead. She feels a tear run down her face when she’s unable to hold them back anymore. Because this is not a dream, no matter how many times she tells herself it is. No matter how many times she screams at herself to wake up. She clenches her jaw as tightly as she can, then clenches her fists, letting her fingernails ding into her palms. Her body shakes and she twists her head into the pillow, warm air escaping from her mouth as she lets the words escape her as quietly as she can. She wants to scream them. 

She doesn’t remember the last time she’s cried this hard. She’s pretty sure that even when her father left she didn’t cry this hard. But this isn’t someone letting her down, her mom was there to help her through that and was someone who was in the same situation – even worse. No. This is the earth being pulled from under her feet so she’s free-falling into nothing. This is her breaking in ways she didn’t know she could be broken. 

This is different because she’s completely alone.

“I can’t breathe.” It’s her mantra because her chest feels like it’s in knots and her throat feels like its closing.

And there are fingers at her back again, tracing light shapes. 

This time she doesn’t pull away because at least now she feels a little grounded by touch. 

She’s not sure when she falls asleep, but the last time she looks at the clock reads 3:47 AM. 

* * *

She wakes up with fingers tracing lazy shapes on her back, the sun blaring through Chloe’s drapes. They’re white and they have black, sketchy lines creating a skyline. Beca will never understand why Chloe likes to have the sun bleeding through the drapes. It just makes mornings all the more unbearable. Then again, Chloe’s always been a morning person. Even on the days of finals, Beca clearly remembers Chloe being awake with a cup of coffee already in her hands, steam rising from the hot mug. Chloe always seemed, even though there were times she was clearly tired, awake and more alive than Beca will ever be in the morning. And Chloe’s chatter is ever-present in the mornings, always having something to say about one thing or another. Which is something Beca has had to learn to deal with because Beca is so not someone who can tolerate morning conversations – even if it is the one and only Chloe Beale. 

She remembers last night like a dream. Perhaps she’s woken up from it, but the lack of sound at this hour tells her it’s still not a dream. She’s still living this nightmare and there is no such thing as ‘waking up’.

Shifting in bed, she turns to face Chloe whose eyes are tired but there’s still a small smile pulling at her lips. But, all she does is frown before she pulls Chloe close to her, feeling numb and wanting to feel something warm against her. She feels Chloe’s lips against her forehead and a hand on her cheek, thumb rubbing back and forth against her skin. 

Eventually, Chloe has to leave and Beca understands, knows Chloe is trying to turn things around so she can graduate this year. She tries not to be mad that she can’t even have Chloe while she’s hurting all day by herself. 

The scary thing is, is that there is always a sound in her head, in her chest, in her hands, and now, today is the day where there isn’t. Her ears are like her lungs and she’s running out of air. No, she is out of air and she’s falling, and she can’t stop everything from spinning and slipping through her fingers. She can feel the sound, feel the vibrations from the speakers playing music; a fast tempo. She can feel the vibrations on the floor from Stacie’s dancing footsteps. She can feel the vibrations through her hands every time her spoon hits the edge of her bowl of soup. 

And it’s too much for her to take because she can’t hear anything, but she knows the sound is there. She can’t hear the conversations they’re having; she sees it. She can’t handle not hearing. 

So when the girls are gone, Beca gets out of Chloe’s bed and walks into her room to stare angrily at all the music that covers half the room. It’s stupid that she has all of this, has her records, her equipment, her computer, when she knows she’s never going to be able to use things again - knows she’ll never be able to enjoy them ever again. She’s by her desk within three angry strides and she pushes the notebooks filled with mash-up ideas. 

She rips her posters down, rips them in half and tosses them to the ground. She pulls her notebooks out of her drawers and rips at the sheets, tearing them into smaller and smaller pieces until there’s a pile of paper surrounding her feet. Notebooks fly into the wall behind her as she tosses them over her shoulder. The records on the shelf are next. She avoids some of them, tossing them on the bed because they’re Chloe’s favorites. Some of them get tossed over her shoulder with haste and others she takes out and snaps in half, whipping them towards the ground. It stings a little less knowing she can’t hear how hard they hit the ground

When she reaches her equipment it makes her heart clench, reminds her of the money she saved to buy those things. The rational part tells her she should sell them, make some money off of them instead of destroying them. Most of her doesn’t care anymore. So with swiftness, she rips the keyboard off her desk and does her best to throw it on the ground. It feels good to not hear it clatter to the ground and not knowing if it broke or not makes her feel less guilty. 

Her vision is blurring and that’s when she realizes she’s been crying. Furiously, she wipes them away and grabs at her launchpad, fingers digging into the keys - angry that she won’t be able to use it anymore. Angry that this is the situation she’s in, angry that she doesn’t want money for it because it feels so much better to destroy everything instead. She’s angry she feels this way. 

There’s an unwanted hand at her shoulder and she whips around to see Stacie with a panicked look on her face. Beca backs herself into her desk, feeling it dig into her spine as she tries to create distance between her and Stacie, whose brow is furrowed with worry and eyes are filled with fear. Stacie’s lips move and then stop and Beca knows Stacie’s realizing that she can’t be heard. 

When Stacie steps forward, Beca puts her hands up and turns her head to the side to see the number of miscellaneous things she knocked over in her haste to rip her posters down. Some of it’s broken, some are shattered. Arms wrap around her midsection and there’s a chin on her shoulder. Tears make their way down her face and Beca shakily holds onto Stacie’s arms. 

* * *

Chloe’s always been Beca’s rock. The smile on Chloe’s face, the way Chloe holds her, and the way Chloe cares for her, has always kept her going in times of trouble over the past four years. But Chloe’s quickly changing, going from smiles to frowns, and eventually, to tears. Beca finds Chloe and Stacie in the kitchen one afternoon and of course, Beca can’t make out what they’re saying, but she can see it on their faces. She watches, without being noticed, Stacie pulling Chloe into a hug, sees Chloe’s shoulders shake and Stacie’s own tears trail down her face.

She decides to leave after that. She packs her things into two suitcases while everyone is still in class. She figures it won’t even matter if she went to class, she can’t hear to take notes or participate. She can barely look at her music apps on her phone, let alone try and feel the bass of music to decipher it. Worst of all she can see how much she’s hurting Chloe and the solution to that is just to remove herself from the equation because then Chloe won’t have to deal with this or her. And she knows it cowardly, to just up and leave in the middle of all this. She knows Chloe’s trying, but after seeing her break down in the kitchen with the girls, she knows her pretending that everything is okay isn’t work and regardless, she’s getting too tired to keep that up. It shouldn’t be this hard for everyone else and the girls have bigger things to worry about like Worlds anyway. That should be their focus. 

Worlds.

That’s another huge problem in itself. The girls are looking to her for answers and she just doesn’t have them, even before any of this happened, because she’s not an endless flow of downbeats and rhythms that work perfectly together to create something worthy of use. She can’t save these girls, she can’t save the Bellas because she can’t even save herself right now. 

It’s something she just doesn’t care about right now. 

To be honest, she doesn’t even feel like leaving a message for the girls as to where she’s going. She would’ve almost slipped through, had she not gone to write Chloe a note because just as she shuts her room door, Beca sees Chloe at the end of the hallway.

The thing is Beca is not brave. Sure, she can sing and dance in front of hundreds, she can stand in front of her boss and make a mix on the spot, and she can work up the courage to run off that stage and pull Chloe with her to kiss her after her freshman performance at the ICCA’s (she actually gives a lot of credit to adrenaline for that one). But as far as staying and hitting conflict head-on, being honest with her feelings that are difficult to explain? Forget it. 

As much as she loves Chloe, it doesn’t keep her from wanting–needing–to run. 

She looks down at her suitcases, picking the hard-shelled one in one hand and slinging the other on her shoulder, desperately trying to keep her eyes glued to the floor. Beca knows this is cowardly; she knows she should explain, but she also can’t because she isn’t comfortable talking right now and the only difference is, is that she’s not personally giving the note to Chloe. 

Bare feet come into view, toenails painted light blue with crackles of silver. Beca fidgets, holds her breath and looks up only to be knocked back into a hug. She drops the suitcases and wraps her arms around Chloe, fingers clutching into Chloe’s shirt. 

It hurts even more to know that Chloe understands. 

* * *

Living with her dad isn't really all that bad. He gives her space, lets her stay in the basement and not be disturbed by anyone. 

Living with Sheila isn’t so bad either. 

Really, it isn’t. 

Since Sheila has a deaf cousin, she has been able to help Beca learn sign language. Which is a blessing and a curse because she really would much rather sleep all the time. It sort of helps that her father’s learning alongside her in the evenings, it makes her feel a little less hopeless. 

Eventually both Sheila and her father discuss with her that sleeping all day isn’t healthy, nor will it be tolerated, much to Beca’s dismay. Which is something she doesn’t understand, because what is she supposed to do if she can’t hear anything? She can’t return to her internship because she’s of no use, she can’t (God forbid) watch a movie without having to work to read the subtitles and pay attention to what’s going on, she can’t create music or listen to it. 

She can’t do anything and she doesn’t like to think about that because then her life is pointless and that leads down a road she’s not ready to think about quite yet. Part of her hasn’t given up, even though a lot of her wants to do that, part of her knows being deaf isn’t the end of the world and that people obviously lead full lives. Part of her, a very small part of her, knows this is just the beginning. 

Right now she just wants to keep grieving, she’s too distraught to do anything else.

* * *

At night Beca tosses and turns, pressing palms into her eyes, and then dragging them to her cheekbones. She kicks at the covers and then slams her fists into the bed. She can’t take the silence, the feeling of nothingness because her entire life has been based on sound and now there’s nothing. She feels like she’s falling all over again, because there’s not a single vibration coming from anywhere. 

It’s like feeling numb, but in a whole new way. 

Throwing the sheets off herself, Beca hops out of bed and scrambles for her shoes with shaky hands. 

She just needs out of this place, needs an escape. 

Before Beca’s parents divorced, when there were hushed fights after dinner, Beca would sit on the stairs until voices would get so loud you could barely hear the front door shut. She would climb back up the stairs and stuff her feet into her shoes, too preoccupied with the idea of escape to care about ruining her shoes. Her fingers would slip behind the heel of the shoe, pulling the fabric from between her foot and the wall of the shoe, and then she'd quietly hurry out the front door. 

There was something about being at the beach around dusk - it was quiet; save for a few families and couples camping out. Beca would find a secluded spot on the sand, sit down, and watch the sun cause colors to bleed across the sky, blending and swirling until the moon would replace the sun and the stars would be dull against the dark sky. Her parents were long forgotten on the beach. She’d listen to the soft crash of the waves feel the sand between her fingers. Sometimes, she’d get close enough and take her shoes off and walk through the water as her feet would sink into the cold, wet sand. The tumble of the waves soothed her mind of all the thoughts that she wished to quiet, each time the tide would pull back Beca could feel each nagging thought disappear.

The first time she had done that she worried her parents knew she left, but when she quietly snuck back into the house they were both already asleep. Her father was often laid on the couch, kept warm by blankets, and her mother would be in her parents' room. Either they didn’t care or they just didn’t know. Beca was never really sure at the time. It was only later–after her father had left–that she had realized they weren’t so in their own world that they didn’t care about their child disappearing, they just didn’t care that she could hear them yelling. 

Now, as Beca stands at the edge of the water, those waves are silent as they push and pull against the sand, and the soothing noise feels distant and lost. She tries to imagine the sound of them as she sits down, but it isn’t the same. 

Nothing ever will be. 

* * *

Like every morning, Chloe leaves Beca several text messages to check-in. Sometimes Chloe asks if she could just get some type of response, sometimes Chloe just tells Beca it’s okay not to because she just wants Beca to know that she’s still there. Whenever Beca’s ready. 

Beca’s definitely not ready to see anyone and she thought she made that pretty clear to everyone by ignoring them, but Jesse has never had good listening skills or even boundaries. He’s a lot like Chloe in that sense, except he’s a little more pushy when it comes to boundaries. Chloe has learned to go at things with a gentle approach, but Jesse still likes to pry people open with a wrench. It’s jarring at times, but over time Beca’s become less surprised and angry with him. Sometimes it’s needed and a perfect person would be somewhere in the middle, but people are far from perfect. 

Especially herself. Which is why she slams the door on him when he comes over uninvited. 

She ends up opening the door again after some thought because, despite her desire to be alone, she misses his stupid smile. 

He gives her that half-grin and puts his arms out, fingers wiggling, and then he’s full-blown, open-mouthed smiling. She knows he wants a hug, but instead she drops her arm to her side and steps out of the way to let him into the house. He just frowns and ducks his head, fingers still wiggling. She wants to smirk and shake her head, but plays it off and narrows her eyes with a small shake of her head. 

He gives in, visibly sighing as he walks through the threshold. 

Beca lets out a huff and shuts the door, pressing into it just because she can’t hear the click of it closing properly. She then lets her fingers flex against the door before dropping her hands to her sides, turning around to look at Jesse who’s giving her an expectant look. She raises her brow at him, frowning and unsure of what he wants. 

She watches as he pulls out his phone, how the light illuminates his face because he always has to have his phone on its highest brightness like the maniac he is. He then turns his phone around and shows it to her and she can’t help but roll her eyes, taking the phone into her hands. 

> You seriously not gonna give your bestest bro a hug?

Beca scoffs and types up a response before handing the phone back to him. She watches as his shoulders slump and he walks further into the house, suddenly looking around as if it’s hit him he’s never been in the house before. Clearly her denial for a hug really isn’t that important. 

They end up watching an episode of Game of Thrones on the couch. Seeing as it’s the only thing the two can watch together that doesn’t drive either of them insane. Beca isn’t a fan of movies and Jessie isn’t huge on television shows, but the two can both settle for a few episodes of Game of Thrones. 

Then again, Jesse might just be being extra nice because of the whole situation currently going on. 

Beca ends up staring at the carpet, spying a few popcorn kernels from the previous night. She feels her chest twist unpleasantly when she thinks of the future moviecations with Jesse, how she won’t be able to listen to him ramble about some dorky random fact or his notes of the analyzation going on in his head, and then also try and pay attention to the movie. Really, as much as she used to despise those times, looking back, those moviecations really gave her a break from the Bellas. 

Now she wishes she hadn’t taken those for granted. 

Shifting with the feeling of sudden distress from the realization of reality (yet again), she itches for Jesse to leave because she can’t talk to him. Not like she used to. And she wishes she could just talk to him about everything that’s been going through her head since she’s left Barden; since she’s pulled herself away from the world. 

And granted, she can, but she really doesn’t find texting all that comforting. 

She’s tired of reading words instead of hearing them. 

But her thoughts pull at her, causing her head to feel heavy and her jaw to tighten. 

Then there’s a hand on her knee, fingers resting gently, a thumb rubbing against her jeans. 

She doesn’t look at Jesse, she just stares at his hand as her eyes sting with tears. She bites her lip as if to hold back any unwanted sobbing noises that might escape because she is not going to get emotional in front of Jesse. Not in front of anyone if she can help it.

“ _What do you do when you lose everything_?” She tightens her jaw. “ _Everything you’ve been working for since high school_.” Her eyes burn with the tears she tries to hold back, she never liked crying in front of others. “ _What do you do when one of the most crucial things in your life is taken away because_ -” she pauses to think, whether there really was something she could’ve done to stop her ears from giving up on her or blame someone – there isn’t. “ _Because you have shitty luck. What am I supposed to do_?”

She looks at Jesse, who’s currently frowning and not looking at her. Turning away she shakes her head, “ _Never mind, it’s stupid_.” 

They finish the episode before Beca asks Jesse to leave. 

* * *

Beca knows that ignoring life outside of the walls of this house can’t actually go on forever and nor does she want it to. The problem is she doesn’t know what to do with herself and that’s terrifying. She’s always been striving for something and in high school, her main and sometimes only goal was to become a music producer. She’s now put herself through three years of college with the sole purpose of learning more about the industry and intricacies of it all. And all right, the Bellas played a huge part too, but that’s still tied to music. It’s all woven together around one thing that she can’t participate in. Something to be heard. 

Everything outside of the house is a reminder that she has no idea what she’s doing or what she wants anymore and it terrifies her. Where does she even start? 

Her phone lights up in the dark room, as if it’s God themselves (it’s not because they would never do such a thing to her if there was a God and Beca’s never been a big believer in such things), giving her a sign. She sighs, pulling her arm out of the comfort of the many blankets she’s buried herself under and picks up the device to see what sort of notification it is. 

It’s Instagram notifying her that she’s been tagged in a post from Flo. She decidedly taps on the notification and watches as the app loads before popping up with a photo of the Bellas in New York. The caption reads:

> TBT: Familia para siempre

Her eyes scan over the girls: her family. She’s not ready for them quite yet, but she looks at Chloe, looks at the smile on her face and the joy in her eyes, and Beca feels tears in her own. She taps on Chloe and when her Instagram handle pops up, Beca taps on it to see what Chloe’s been up to. 

Chloe hasn’t posted since Beca visited the doctor the first time. 

Twisting her mouth to the side, Beca opens her messages and taps on her conversation with Chloe. There are so many texts from Chloe that she had ignored over the past three weeks. Most of them just say ‘i love you’ and ‘i’m here for you’, and it makes her feel a little guilty for shutting someone out who loves her. The last one she received was three days ago. She knows Chloe loves her, knows Chloe cares about her, and yet as her fingers hover over the keyboard, she’s at a loss of what to say. She wants to apologize, but she knows that in apologizing she’ll end up explaining herself to Chloe, and that might mean saying something that might hurt Chloe. Like: ‘i understand if you want to leave me’.

It weighs on her mind like a chain, the other end attached to the ground, keeping her from moving. It’s fear, she knows it is, and even if there hasn’t been a single sign of Chloe leaving her and breaking up, it’s a fear nonetheless and it makes her feel like she’s suffocating. 

> **Beca** : come over? 

Beca counts the seconds and gets to 11 when she sees the message has been read. She worries her lip as the telling bubble that Chloe’s typing doesn’t immediately show up. Maybe the creeping fears in the back of her mind are right. Maybe Chloe’s pissed, maybe Chloe’s had enough, maybe-

The grey bubble pops up, dots blinking rapidly before the message displays. 

> **Chloe** : i’m on my way 

Thirty minutes later Beca opens the door, slightly stunned to actually see Chloe standing there; clad in a teal leopard print shirt and bright, aqua-colored shorts. It’s so very bright, just like Chloe and it makes Beca feel infinitely guilty for the worry she’s probably caused Chloe by avoiding her. Beca meets Chloe’s eyes, hoping to convey some sort of semblance that she’s sorry. 

Chloe says something, probably a greeting, cringes and waves her hand instead. 

Smiling with a tight lip, Beca twists her body to the side to let Chloe into the house. “ _Hey_.” She tries, feeling it catch in her throat. She wishes she wasn’t so nervous, wishes she could be brave in front of Chloe and put on some kind of front that she’s been fine this entire time. But then Chloe hugs her and the dam holding everything up breaks and spills out onto Chloe’s shirt as Beca grasps on to Chloe’s sides. Really, Beca thought she was over this whole crying thing, but apparently Chloe has ways of opening her up for new reasons. 

They sit on the couch, eyeing each other, but never looking at each other in the eye at the same time. Mostly because Beca can barely look at Chloe. Chloe reminds her of music. Chloe reminds her of the Bellas. Chloe reminds her of Barden. Chloe reminds her of the dreams she can no longer have. Chloe is too much right now and Beca’s chest is tightening in an uncomfortable way. Maybe this was a bad idea, she thinks, maybe she isn’t ready. Maybe this is why the dam broke.

Her phone buzzes and her thoughts are distracted as she looks down at the text. 

> **Chloe:** the bellas all went to this retreat and it was crazy. aubrey made us do a bunch of exercises where we couldn’t talk to each other 

She needs Chloe to leave because Beca can feel the waters of the dam filling. 

Her phone buzzes again. 

> **Chloe** : are you okay? 

Beca looks back at Chloe, frowning. “ _No_.” 

Chloe furrows her brow slightly, lips parting; Chloe’s normal confused look. 

Maybe she didn’t say it loud enough or clearly enough. She tries again and then Chloe’s brow furrows more. 

“ _What makes you think I’d be okay? You really think I’d be okay after all of this_?” Beca tries to keep her tone even-tempered, but feeling the tightness in her jaw, she knows it’s not. “ _Are you crazy_?” 

Chloe’s lips move to talk for a brief moment and it strikes Beca in the chest. Chloe’s mouth shuts suddenly and then she pulls her phone back to her face. 

> **Chloe** : no

Beca watches the dots on the bottom left of the screen, watching them line up over and over.

But nothing sends through and they stop. She looks at Chloe who looks confused, hurt even. Her bright blue eyes, which usually hold such joy and assurance, are glossed over. Her head tilts up towards the ceiling and her face contorts into a frown, brows furrowing. Beca hates the curved, distressed lines she’s putting on Chloe’s face.

Beca sighs and moves to rest her head on Chloe’s shoulder. She’s supposed to open back up, not shoving Chloe away. “ _I’m sorry. Just overwhelmed_.” Her voice cracks over her words, unsure if she’s too quiet and afraid of being too loud. 

Chloe’s arm moves, Beca feels it brush against her and she watches as Chloe’s hand moves to her phone as she types a message in the Notes app. 

> **Chloe** : i don’t know what to say

Beca furrows her brow at the text, shaking her head because of course there’s nothing Chloe can do. There’s nothing anyone can do or say. 

“ _Maybe you should leave_.” 

Beca looks back at Chloe to gauge a reaction. She watches Chloe’s lips, watches as they form words and contort with expression. Expressions which Beca has learned to read as anxiousness. Somehow she manages to catch the I love you, but an ‘I love you’ doesn’t matter anymore. It doesn’t matter because it doesn’t bring back her hearing, it doesn’t fix anything, and Beca can’t hear Chloe’s soothing voice no matter how much she strains herself because sound has vanished from her world.

Instead, the notion makes her chest feel tight all over again. She asked Chloe to come over and now she’s kicking her out. It makes her head pound and her fingers shake with anger and she screws her eyes shut. Beca wishes she could be what people need of her – especially Chloe who has always at the very least tried to be there for Beca. Which is exactly what Chloe’s doing and Beca’s sitting here unable to face a new reality. She grits her teeth and lets out a shaky breath and the vibration of her phone provides a moment of distraction.

> **Chloe** : im sorry that was a stupid question. i wanna show you something

Beca takes in a deep breath, counting for four seconds before holding it for two and then letting it out slowly. She repeats it twice before nodding. “ _Okay-_ ” she shrugs, “ _show me_.” She looks up at Chloe whose eyes crinkle with excitement and somehow it makes looking at those blues eyes comforting again. There’s confidence and joy in them, something Beca recognizes. 

With a bite of her lip, Chloe looks back at her phone and Beca watches as nimble fingers type away quicker than Beca has ever seen. 

> **Chloe** : awes
> 
> there’s an artist and shes amazing and shes like you
> 
> actually several artists

Beca furrows her brow, looking back at Chloe. She shakes her head and huffs, “ _I can’t hear them, what’s the point, Chlo_?”

> **Chloe** : its their stories. theyre d/Deaf/HoH. gosh theres a woman our age
> 
> shes a jazz singer!! 

Beca looks up at Chloe, who’s looking overly excited now. She’s not sure what to think of that. She’s not sure how that’s even possible, then again she’s never even thought about even going back to producing music. Besides, she’s entirely sure this girl isn’t entirely deaf, like her. Her second thought is maybe it’s ludicrous to think a deaf person can’t totally be a Grammy winner. Who says someone can’t do that? Who says hard work doesn’t pay off?

As a realization strikes Beca, her mood begins to shift. Yes, her world is different now, but there’s a comfort knowing Chloe’s world has also changed, and it’s a change they can maybe face together. A smirk finds its way to Beca’s lips because it’s just so Chloe that she would look into these things, look for what Beca is afraid to find because of the possible answers she doesn’t want to see. It’s so Chloe to do the things that Beca wouldn’t always think to do, like research how to renavigate one’s life. 

Although there’s some irony to the fact that Chloe’s been unable to make change in her own life regarding school, Beca's always known Chloe’s much better at giving advice than following it. 

> **Chloe** : and theres a woman in her fifties
> 
> a percussionist
> 
> and shes won a GRAMMY becs. the point is, is that you can still accomplish what you want. you CAN produce music, becs! i believed in you years ago, i believe in you now, and i’ll always believe you 

Unable to hold back a smile, Beca can’t even help but grab Chloe by either side of her head, moving to sit in Chloe’s lap, placing kisses all over Chloe’s face. “ _Thank you_.”

Beca’s eyes travel down to Chloe’s lips, watching them twitch upwards into a smile and Beca follows the lines on Chloe’s face that follow. The little–almost parathesis-like–lines that form little indents in Chloe’s cheeks. She looks up from those smile lines and up to Chloe’s eyes, bright and blue, full of happiness that Beca’s envied sometimes, envied the way Chloe bursts with love and warmth, the things that Beca was and still is so drawn to. She can feel Chloe let out a steady breath against her lips and Beca holds her breath as they just look at each other. 

Chloe’s fingers brush up against Beca’s cheek, moving slowly towards her ear and Beca feels her hair pushed behind her ear. A thumb softly brushes against Beca’s lower lip and Beca instinctively wets her lower lip before kissing Chloe on the mouth.


	2. a symphony of family

“ _I can try and read your lips. Kind of wanna face you when you talk._ ”

Chloe quirks her brow and gives Beca a suggestive look.

Beca rolls her eyes, playfully shoving at Chloe’s shoulder, “ _Weirdo!_ ”

Chloe smiles, opens her mouth but then hesitates.

“ _It’s not like you don’t mouth words to me before performances. Even if I did think that one time you said go to the front desk instead of asking ‘got the setlist?’_ ”

Chloe’s mouth opens and Beca can feel Chloe’s side shake against her right hand, feel vibrations from Chloe’s throat spread to Beca’s hand on the side of Chloe’s neck. The smile on Chloe’s face confirms it; Chloe’s laughing, giggling more so, maybe. Whichever, seeing Chloe laugh or giggle is just as rewarding as hearing it because it’s a sight she hasn’t seen in a while.

“ _Hey, in my defense I was still hungover_.”

Chloe’s hands leave Beca’s hip to pick up the phone lying between them. She watches as Chloe slowly taps on her phone before she’s taken away by the sight by a vibration against her stomach.

She looks down and lets her hand drop from Chloe’s neck to pick it up.

> **Chloe** : _im gonna learn asl as soon as possible :)_

“ _That would be-_ ” Beca pauses to smile gently _,_ “ _something I would hope for.”_ She frowns and lets out a sigh, “ _But I’m not ready to come back home._ ”

Chloe nods with understanding and kisses Beca to solidify that understanding.

* * *

Later in the week, Beca visits the beach again, but this time during the day and not during the middle of the night. It’s a little crowded for her, but there’s life buzzing around her, and she wants to try to feel that again– even if she can’t hear it. So she watches instead of listening. She sits with her legs sticking on into the water, feels the waves push and pull against her skin; feels her fingers dig into the sand or brush against it. As the water pulls back, Beca exhales and when the water returns, she takes in a breath. The smell of saltwater hits her senses and somehow she finds a new way to quiet her mind.

Then she starts thinking. Good thoughts, not chaos wrapped around like weeds against a growing tree. If she can relearn to make the ocean something peaceful to visit, then maybe she can relearn other things. She relearned how to accept people her life, she relearned how to empathy for people other than herself or best friends. Those were difficult for her, this will be too, but if she can make it sort through her trauma regarding people and relationships, then she could probably do anything. Chloe’s rubbing off on her, she thinks with a fond smile – something she would have refused to even think of doing. Even so, she brushes her tongue over her lower lip and regains her composure. It’s a reminder that she’s still not perfect, but it’s okay because there’s room to grow, and she can start with going back to the Bellas; her family.

So, the next morning Beca packs her things and returns to the Bellas house.

It’s not easy coming back.

Beca feels like she’s on the outside, but she supposes that’s not entirely an unfamiliar feeling. Most of her years before college felt like that; never quite finding her place in a sea of kids who she was supposed to connect with on a deeper level other than group projects. It sucks because the Bellas made her feel like she had finally found some sort of comradery or family that people talk about when they mention friends they’ve known for 30 years, yet here she stands in the kitchen watching the commotion of Bellas moving around and there’s this weird disconnect because no one is quite sure how to communicate with her as a team. Bella bonding nights are vastly different and the games they play make Beca feel wildly out of place. Simple things like shouting out pizza orders or deciding what bar to go to is vastly different– although, Beca’s been skipping out on bar nights.

What it comes down to, what really matters most out of all of it, is that it just _hurts_ and Beca can’t even blame them. She’s still learning so much ASL and Chloe’s finally got the alphabet memorized (which is super helpful, but she’s not always home); some of the Bellas are just starting to learn, but she knows they’re trying. They all try to gesture a lot, but Beca’s never been very patient or even good at charades, and it more often than not it’s frustrating. Maybe, she tells herself, it just hurts because she’s never been on the outside of the Bellas, yet here she stands, watching them laugh and smile while Beca stirs the food on her plate with a fork.

Beca hasn’t even gone to class, but she emailed the school about the situation and she’s been able to do _some_ make-up work. It seems kind of pointless because she’s gonna have to learn how to renavigate making music and school isn’t really helping her too much with that. It makes her realize how unfriendly the school is towards those with any type of disability or... Well, she’s not really sure what to call it. She doesn’t want to really think of deafness that way, but she’s also not sure if she’s supposed to think of it that way. There are rights she has, she knows that at least, but the school just doesn’t have great resources.

Not to mention, in order to graduate she needs to finish her internship. She keeps telling herself she’ll figure that out eventually, but every day that passes means graduation gets closer and Worlds gets even closer than that. It’s overwhelming and even though the girls reassure her, Beca still feels guilty for being unable to come up with anything.

It’s not for lack of trying, it’s just that every time Beca starts thinking about sound and music, she’s reminded that she can’t _hear_ it and that she has to relearn _everything_ she’s ever known about it. She could so easily pull songs together, intertwine them through just listening to it, but she can’t put them together like that anymore. And she _knows_ there are ways to relearn, knows that people who can’t hear enjoy music, but a part of her isn’t quite ready to admit that she’s deaf and in order for her to learn, she has to admit that’s something she’s never going to get back. A quiet part of her mind tells her it’s a temporary or perhaps she’s framing. Knowing something is one thing, accepting it is another, and people have always called her stubborn.

Over the weekend she lets Sheila drag her to a support group. Beca had discussed with Chloe, or rather they texted back and forth while Chloe attended her classes, about the idea. She had been unsure about it mostly because it would entail talking-writing-signing what she feels with strangers and Beca barely likes such an idea when it comes to the Bellas. Chloe’s been an exception, but it wasn’t without disagreements and frustrations on both their ends before Beca had decided she could trust Chloe with parts of herself she hadn’t even learned to self-accept. Being surrounded by people of different levels of deafness or hard of hearing might prove to be useful or maybe even comforting, knowing that there could be hundreds of resources she’s missing, or even just similar feelings.

It’s… different, but at the same time the group still makes her feel like an outsider because she’s still trying to figure out ASL (she’s slightly distraught by the fact that this will take years to have down). She has to write things down on a paper or a dry erase board. Similarly the people she’s talking to have to do the same or Shelia has to write down things _for_ Beca. She really is starting to hate the creeping feeling of uselessness every time she tries to communicate with people.

It’s not a total bust. She finds some people can hear a little, like if they blast music in their car, they can make out general sounds, but not words. Some people can’t hear at all and see speech therapists to give them the ability to communicate through voice, while others chose not to. She learns one person was born Deaf, another - like Beca - lost their hearing after living in a completely hearing world, and another was able to receive a cochlear implant, so they can hear a world they previously were unable to. There’s a whole culture for them which Beca’s never known about. For the rest of the session, she observes, taking in how people interact and trying to pick up as much as she can. By the end, she’s exhausted, but the organizer of the group gives her some resources and books to read, which feel heavy in her hands.

It’s in the afternoon the next day that Beca makes a discovery. Chloe’s sitting next to her on the bed, working on homework, while Beca reads up on a very dry explanation of her rights as a deaf person. Which is starting to feel like an okay thing to say to herself now – deaf, she’s deaf. It’s then that Beca feels the wall behind her shake - maybe rumble, Beca’s not entirely sure how to explain it, but she can feel whatever noise is happening in Stacie’s room. It happens briefly, quickly, and then it stops. It’s as fast as a single knock on the wall and Beca twists to press her hand against to feel if it happens again.

The wall begins to shake rhythmically and when Beca feels the bed shift, she looks to where Chloe was sitting and is now leaving the room. Beca arches her brow, but keeps her hand pressed against the wall. It feels like a beat of some sort, the wall will rumble for a few beats, then shake like a staccato beat before rumbling again. It stops as soon as Beca sees Chloe walking back into the room with a slightly annoyed look on her face, focused on whatever task she’s about to start because she doesn’t make her way back to bed.

Beca removes her hand and picks up a foam ball, throwing it in Chloe’s direction. She watches it miss Chloe and instead it bounces off the wall a few steps away from Chloe which is enough to get Chloe’s attention on her.

She picks up the whiteboard off the nightstand and scribbles what she wants to say before holding it up, _‘What’s going on?’_

 _‘S-T-A-C-I-E. Music.’_ Chloe signs back, hands moving exasperatedly before she moves to pick up the foam ball and toss it back at Beca.

Beca grins with a shake of her head as she wipes off what she had previously written. She looks up at Chloe when she sees movement in her peripheral vision and watches as Chloe snags the whiteboard off of her nightstand. It’s pink–as Chloe had insisted–with flower stickers and has a matching pink marker. It’s a stark difference from her own plain black one and although it’s a trivial thing to make comparisons on, it does remind Beca of the fact that despite how different they can be, they still manage to find each other adorable regardless. Beca would think if it were anyone else with a pink dry erase board littered with stickers on it, that she would probably hate that person; think of them to be too childish. Yet, Beca finds the stickers oddly comforting because in some way, it means that Chloe is taking this seriously because she’s making this board hers, making it homey and declaring it a permanent part of her room– her life.

 _‘It’s supposed to be a study day for everyone. She knows the rules :(‘_ Chloe frowns, albeit a little dramatically.

 _‘Stacie doesn’t follow rules you know that’_ , Beca writes back in blue marker.

She watches as Chloe sighs in response, her lips pursing as she looks down at her whiteboard.

It had been weird at first, picking up on Chloe’s body language became vital to reading Chloe’s tone and feelings because of course, she can no longer hear those tones or sounds. Granted, she always knew some of Chloe’s quirks, knew the movements she made because that’s kind of what happens when you’ve dated someone for three years and live with them. She knew the ways Chloe’s lips could twist, how expressive she could be; the way Chloe’s neck strains when she’s angry. Smaller things, now, like types of sighs were- are harder for Beca to differentiate from.

This one, Beca decides, is defeated. Chloe’s shoulders slump as she fulling leans back into the pillows propped to keep her upright. She hunches, just a bit as those lips purse slightly and form a soft frown, leaving just enough space to let the air out of her mouth in another sigh. Her eyes are trained on the blank whiteboard.

Beca looks at her own, scribbling ‘ _I felt the music_ ’, before placing it over Chloe’s board.

Chloe’s eyes widen, blinking owlishly at Beca as her lips part with what Beca assumes is shock. Her lips purse to close, but her tongue swipes over her bottom lip, and her eyes track away from Beca, darting quickly back and forth. Clearly Chloe’s thinking something over. What that is, Beca’s unsure of, but she anxiously waits–what’s really only seconds–forever. She blinks again, rapidly this time before tilting her head up to look at Beca with a smile, teeth and shiny eyes. Then, suddenly, Chloe’s moving off the bed and briskly walking towards her desk.

She watches as Chloe picks up a pink speaker and practically bounces back onto the bed. She hops onto the bed unceremoniously, causing the bed to shift and sink. Then, Chloe places the speaker in Beca’s hands. It’s a cheap one–well, cheap as far as speakers–but portable. Beca rubs her thumbs over the plastic and suddenly she can feel a rhythmic buzzing, but it’s not as defined as the wall vibration. She looks to Chloe who’s staring at her with anticipation, seeming to be holding in a celebratory… something. Shout or yell.

Beca quirks her brow, holding a stoic look on her face before grinning with a nod of her head. That, yes, she can feel the music or whatever is playing.

Chloe then seems to release whatever sound she had been holding in and she reaches out to pull Beca into a bone-crushing hug.

* * *

The girls decide to go out to a club that evening and Beca decides to join them. Feeling the music vibrating through the bedroom wall and later in Chloe’s car brought back some passion back in her. It isn’t the same as hearing the music, by no means, but it is something and that something feels okay. The idea that she won’t hear music again still makes her insides twist uncomfortably, but at least feeling the music is still consuming it– even if that consumption is different from what she’s used to.

Still, when she walks into the club with Chloe’s hand gripping hers, she stops in her tracks after the bouncer checks her ID. Her eyes are distracted away from Chloe and the girls by the lights, people clearly talking or shouting over the music, ordering drinks at the bar and devouring pizza at the section of tables, and the overwhelming mass of people, some of whom are dancing. It’s a lot all at once and Beca hadn’t been a fan of clubs before she lost her hearing because of how overwhelming they can be, but at least she had Chloe, at least she had her girls, and could order drink after drink and pretend the music wasn’t atrocious.

It’s a mess of bodies and chaos moving in absolute silence.

Beca’s unsure whether to run from it or move closer to it all.

Chloe seems to pick up on this because she tugs at Beca’s hand, pulling her towards the side. Her mouth opens, then shuts and her face has apologetic written all over with a mix of concern. All Beca can do is nod, squeeze Chloe’s hand because she’s forcing herself to understand it’s been hard to switch away from being able to talk the way they used to. She watches as Chloe pulls out her phone and Beca does the same to await whatever Chloe has to say.

> **Chloe:** _we can leave if you want_

Beca stares at the text and shakes her head because, no, she doesn’t want to leave. Not really. She wants to run, yes, but running was kind of something her past self would have done. A pre-Chloe Beca, pre-Bellas Beca. She wants to run, but that’s just not what she does anymore. Except, Beca’s unsure how to confront this current situation and she’s unsure what she needs from Chloe. Sighing, she types the only thing she knows at the moment.

> **Beca** : _i’m not going to leave._
> 
> **Chloe** : _okay. do you want something to drink?_
> 
> **Beca** _: yeah, okay. sure. something with vodka?_
> 
> **Chloe** : _anything for the love of my life!!!_
> 
> **Beca** : _weirdo._

Thankfully, Chloe drags Beca to the bar with her like she always has, like nothing has changed between them. She drapes her arm around Beca’s waist, fingers teasing along the seam of Beca’s shirt. Beca lips purse, lifting with slight annoyance, but mostly out of amusement because of course Chloe is doing that thing where she teases Beca all night and it’s starting now. She knows because it always starts innocently like this, a little brush of the fingers against safe territory– always right when they’re pressed into the bar by the crowd behind them. Typically, they’re a little buzzed by then, but this is comforting, having Chloe start whatever teasing game this is.

Chloe presses the glass into her hand and at the same time, places a chaste kiss on her lips before grabbing her own drink (likely a long island judging by the dark coloring and tall glass).

Beca looks down at her phone and taps on her conversation with Chloe.

> **Chloe** : let’s go towards the music

It shocks Beca. To her very core, it shocks her that she can hear the most muffled sound when they get right next to the speakers. She can’t really compare it to anything that feels right. It’s like she’s hearing muffled music from outside of the club, but it’s even quieter than that. She can just barely make out the melody let alone the words, but the bass thrumming through her body is familiar and not unlike what it used to feel like. Except, now, Beca can focus on that feeling and her eyes flutter shut at the sensation of it. She pushes herself, trying to figure out the song and lets her head move to the melody, fingers tapping the air to the repetitive beat.

She can’t figure it out, but when she opens her eyes Chloe is standing in front of her with teary eyes and a smile Beca hasn’t seen in too long of a time. It’s infectious and Beca can’t stop the smile that cracks across her own face, so she takes a long drink of vodka lemonade before dancing towards Chloe.

They’re horribly drunk when they crash through the front door of the Bellas house; a mess of tangled limbs scrambling to touch each other as soon as Chloe pushes Beca up against the door and Beca can’t hear it, but the force at which she’s pushed against it she knows it slams shut waking any potential Bellas who may be asleep. Yet, Beca can’t find herself to care because Chloe’s mouth is warm and welcoming and she’s high off hearing a small amount of sound.

There _is_ some underlying hesitancy in the air, however– Beca can sense and feel it in the way Chloe’s hands stutter in their journey towards her jeans. It’s been new trying to navigate sex because they–like anyone who can hear–have always relied on the sounds they make, they rely on sound for consent, and that’s changed now that Beca can’t hear and they still don’t exactly have a system down. Up until now their sex life has taken to the back burner due to Beca’s lack of desire and drive to do anything.

Chloe pulls back and Beca’s eyes take a moment before they open, her brain foggy from the booze and natural high that proceeds kissing Chloe. Chloe's face is flushed and it follows down her neck and chest that Beca can see. Desire is clear across Chloe’s face, that much Beca is very aware of, that much Beca has come to know over the years they’ve been dating. There have been times, however, when they’ve stumbled home drunk and making out at this exact spot in the house and one or both of them decide they would just rather go back out to the 24/hr dinner for burgers or opted instead just to fall asleep in front of the television.

So Beca takes a moment to catch her breath before she licks her lips and nods. She thinks about speaking, really she does, but instead, she moves her hands from Chloe’s neck down to her sides to gently tug Chloe back into her space, eyes locking with Chloe as she nods because, yes, she wants this and she hopes Chloe does too but is absolutely prepared to stop if she doesn’t want this right now. Horribly, stupidly, she thinks: if ever again.

Chloe grins, one hand pulls at the loop in Beca’s jeans and the other cups her chin, tipping it up and Beca lets Chloe recapture her lips. She feels the way Chloe’s thumb brushes against her cheek and Beca can’t stop herself from doing the same to Chloe. Her heart swells at the action, even if their kiss is a little messy and she knows they’re both trying to keep from heating things up too quickly again. It’s just that she’s constantly surprised by Chloe through this, even when she didn’t want Chloe to barge back into her life, she’s grateful for it. She’s grateful through this that Chloe still wants and continues to be with her.

It would’ve been easier for Chloe to leave and yet here she is.

Their lips part again and Beca watches as Chloe nods and Beca repeats it. Chloe takes Beca by the hand and leads her upstairs and Beca locks Chloe’s door behind her.

She misses the way Chloe moans, the filthy things she would whisper in Beca’s ear, but she chooses to be grateful that Chloe’s holding her close, slowly peppering kisses over her shoulder in the aftermath of their awkward, yet still incredibly fun drunken sex.

* * *

> **Beca** : _hey. want to work on a song together?_
> 
> **Emily** : _Ohmystars you were serious last night??????!_
> 
> **Beca** : _dude, totally. stop by residual heat this afternoon?_
> 
> **Emily** : I’ll be there! OMS!

Beca places her phone on her desk before kneeling to reach under her bed. Her hand skates across the wood floor before colliding with a cardboard box and she has to feel around for the edge of a flap to pull it from under her bed into the open. She falls back to sit down, crisscrossing her legs as she rests her elbows on her thighs. Biting the inside of her lip, Beca looks at the contents in the box– her music equipment which Stacie had packed away and hidden. She was surprised to hear yesterday that Stacie had simply placed it under Beca’s bed.

She hasn’t looked at this stuff since her meltdown months ago. That sinking feeling, the air being pulled from her lungs feeling is back. Less intense, but still there. There’s familiarity in looking at it because she knows the equipment, knows what every button and knob can do, and that’s a safe feeling. It’s okay that she feels _that_ , but what’s new is the inadequacy she feels around it because she’s not sure _how_ she’s going to use it moving forward. The buttons, the dials, all of it is useless (at least it seems so) unless she can use it to actually make something.

Bass she can feel, but music isn’t just the bass; it’s also everything she can’t hear unless it’s blasted in a club and even then it’s muffled. She knows she’s missing the individual sounds that people take for granted when they listen to music; all those layers of sounds it takes to make music. So, as independent as she likes to be when it comes to her music, she knows she’s going to need more help from Emily than she’d usually like. Not to mention, she’s going to have to go back to Residual Heat and ask her… former– well, the thing is she never actually quit her internship and her boss has continued to send emails encouraging her (Reggie), not to give up on a music career of some sort and that perhaps she could still learn something; they’d figure it out apparently.

Beca emails him after lunch with the girls. She still feels out of place with them, but she tries not to dwell on it, and Stacie and Cynthia-Rose make that an easy task when they start throwing pretzels to start a war with her. She spends much too long staring at a blank email unsure how to even start it because she definitely, and will not say, ‘sorry for dropping off the face of the earth on account I couldn’t deal with being deaf’. That’s neither professional or as open as Beca wants to be.

She eventually settles with asking him where they should begin.

It only takes a week to come up with a messy demo– both a surprise and a frustration because at times it feels much longer than a week. Beca downloads an app to find pitch so she can figure out Emily’s notes and compare them to the instrumental notes they consider using. Beca spends her in her room or at her internship with shortened hours, so time to work on the song is infinite, which is definitely why it only takes a week. She’s neither confirming or denying that she has a couple of breakdowns in Chloe’s lap. It helps that Emily is also just… incredibly talented and Beca knows that the Bellas will be in good hands when the rest of them move on from college and into whatever is supposed to follow them post-college. While it’s obvious Emily doesn’t have all the technicalities of it down, she absolutely knows music and the basics of putting a song together.

Emily tells her their song sounds fantastic.

Unfortunately, Beca isn’t going to be able to confirm that herself, not in the way she wants to. It gets added to the lengthening list of things Beca has to learn or relearn, that she’s not going to be able to hear her own music (or any music for that matter) to confirm how she feels about it. She can’t scour through it to find flaws or come up with new ideas, at least not in a once easy way. Now, she stares at notes compiled together, has to sing it in her head and watch the flow of music through the musician playing.

So, to say she’s anxious to show Aubrey would be an understatement. Normally, Beca would look to Chloe for some form of feedback, but as much as Beca loves her girlfriend, Chloe has a tendency to skim over flaws for the sake of being supportive. It’s not that Chloe won’t let Beca know something’s bad, Chloe just won’t let on _how_ bad and even then, it’s sprinkled with positivity. And Beca appreciates that, really, she can’t count how many times Chloe’s encouraged her, but It’s just not what she needs right now. Beca needs someone who’s going to be cut and dry, and isn’t afraid to break the small hope Beca’s holding onto that she doesn’t need to pick a new career.

She knocks on the door of Aubrey’s private cabin. It’s medium-sized, bigger than the one Chloe took her to last summer, but still much smaller than a house. The wood looks a little worn, patches of moss cover it in odd places, and the only thing making it look like it’s not straight out of a crime show is the gold plaque on the door. ‘Aubrey Posen’, it reads. The door suddenly swings open and Aubrey stands in her work uniform, a serious look on her face.

Beca lifts her hand, lazily waving a hello and Aubrey does the same before stepping to the side to let her in.

As she steps inside, Beca takes note of how not-cabin the inside looks. She wonders if this (the staff cabins) is where all the money goes for upkeep or if this is just for the head leaders of Lodge. The inside looks like a normal, slightly upscale one-bedroom apartment. It’s still very Aubrey, there’s not a sign of anything misplaced or unkempt.

Beca turns back around and she sees Aubrey already writing on a sticky-note, so she waits.

> _Where is the song?_

Leave it to Aubrey to get right to it, something Beca is less than grateful for this time because she’s really not ready for Aubrey to light her dreams on fire. But she won’t know if it’s fantastic either if she doesn’t show Aubrey and she’s not about to give her boss something that sounds like shit, so she swings her backpack off her shoulder and kneels as she unzips it. Tentatively, she pulls out her headphones and laptop before joining Aubrey at the kitchen table.

Aubrey Posen has always struck fear in Beca; not that such a statement would ever leave her lips because she’s not about to admit that out loud. As an apathetic freshman Beca gave less than half a mind over Aubrey’s antics, she was much more focused on being offended by her refusal to change her desperate need for consistency of what the Bellas had always stood for– she was wrong, but that’s beside the point. After the infamous tossing of the pitch pipe (side note: Aubrey was and is still terrible at throwing things) she had gotten to know Aubrey and that’s perhaps what was the most terrifying part because Aubrey wasn’t just intense about the Bellas, but she was intense about everything. Aubrey can be genuinely kind and soft but if you start spewing nonsense (apparently Beca does this frequently) she’ll have your throat and that’s what strikes fear into her.

So, if her song is actually shit, she’s going to find out from Aubrey and she’s going to have to go back to trying out what to do to fix it. Or worse, give it to her boss and hear from him it's not salvageable and she should consider a new field.

Beca watches Aubrey with wide, expectant eyes as Aubrey’s head bobs to the beat of the song but doesn’t smile. Two minutes feels impossibly long, but eventually Aubrey’s pen is flying against a post-it note and the stack of paper is being turned towards her so she can read it.

> _Show this to your boss. It’s great, Beca._

* * *

Beca texts Emily to meet her in the recording booth the next day. It’s cute to see the excitement on Emily’s face when she steps into the booth, but Beca’s wary about how curious Emily is and warns her not to break anything. Her boss has no idea she’s even using this open studio, but she’s pretty sure one of the more official people working here saw both Emily and herself sneaking around so… time is precious.

They go through several takes and Beca is grateful that Emily seems to want to perfect it because, again, she’s relying on Emily's ears.

It feels sudden when they’re knocking on her bosses door to explain that they definitely have been using the recording booth. Judging from what seems like him trying to hide his amusement he definitely already knew they had something to show him. Still, things get incredibly serious when they give him the thumb drive and they walk into an entirely different studio. Emily is of course practically on her heels, she can feel it and it drives her nerves up further as they stand in the room with her boss.

He plugs the thumb drive in, spins the volume dial and that’s when Beca can hear a muffled melody and feel thumping bass in her feet. It sounds… okay. Of course there’s nothing defining to her, so she’s left to wait for her boss’s reaction.

He frowns when the bass and Beca holds her breath and he turns his back to them to write on a notebook with a sharpie.

She continues to hold her breath even after he hands her the notebook and she reads he hated it, but quickly releases it after she reads: “but only because I hate when people can do what I do so well.”

This lining up of things coming back to her kind of gives her a sign that she needs to get back to Bellas practices again and try to involve herself again. Chloe stopped pressuring her a few weeks ago when she snapped that she has nothing to offer anymore, but with Aubrey, Chloe, and her _boss_ confirming that she has some kind of skill still, then maybe she can offer some help to the girls. What kind of help she’s not sure, it’s been incredibly easy to ignore conversations about the Bellas and Worlds.

So, she finds herself standing in front of the auditorium where the Bellas practice. Hesitantly, Beca pushes the heavy door open and she knows the girls have absolutely heard the door open because it screeches no matter how fast or slow one tries to open or close it. Still, she stands by the bleachers and they don’t come running to her which she is both grateful and pissed by. On one hand, she’s grateful they’re giving her the space to come to them, something that’s never happened until this whole thing, and on the other what the hell didn’t they miss her?

As soon as she’s past the bleachers and in Bellas sight they come running to her, crushing her in a group hug that she pretends to protest to.

A recurring battle with her love for the girls, really. Something she, unfortunately, lost sight of because of the hearing loss, but the club was a good kick in her ass in realizing _maybe_ not everything is lost. Well, that and the fact after she met with Aubrey she received a very honest and lengthy email from her after dinner that quite literally said: get your head out of your ass, it’s not a hat. Aubrey can be right about a lot of things apparently.

They devise a plan together and Beca’s chest swells when each of the girls pull out a whiteboard from their backpacks as they sit in front of the larger one they’ve always used to write out their gameplans. It makes communicating together ten times easier as Beca stands in front of the larger one and reads off the smaller whiteboards each of the girls raises when they have an idea.

Amy thinks she’s absolutely hilarious when she holds on by her stomach so Beca can’t read it since Amy is sitting in the second row behind Ashley and Jessica and Emily snatches it and holds it up so Beca can see that it reads: ‘she’s too short to read this’ with what looks like an angry caricature of herself.

Beca’s not quite sure, but she rolls her eyes and pretends to be offended by it.

They decide as a group that Beca is still going and they’re going to sing and win together on that stage. It’s when they’re celebrating this decision together at dinner that Beca realizes how much she’s missed being at the Bellas practice, how much she loves watching Emily get Amy to get the correct finger placements while signing only for Amy to flip Emily off. She loves watching Jessica and Ashley cook and Stacie stealing food from them while they do so, loves the way Chloe stands and hugs Cynthia-Rose from behind as Cynthia sits at the table and plays some card game with Flo. Maybe she’s missing a lot of conversation, but the girls try to sign the words they know when they can and it’s just going to take time for them all to figure out how to speak an entirely new language.

For now, they can keep holding up dry erase boards, putting sticky notes on each other’s arms, and texting Beca at all hours of the day just to remind her that they’re a family and that won’t change even after college.

Graduation is still a mess emotionally because this really is the beginning of the end for the Barden Bellas. Chloe graduates, not with flying colors, but that’s not the point, it matters that she did at all and the pride that swells over Beca is almost too much to handle. She understands the fear of leaving the Bellas because right now it’s all she feels as well because she isn’t graduating alongside them and she’s officially a college drop out, but there’s a job waiting for her in NYC and while Chloe is obviously going with, Amy insisted she come along because she texted Beca: ‘you need protection in new york and i’m your woman’. Beca thinks it’s the fact that she won’t have to pay rent.

Still, it’s the last time all of the Bellas are going to be living together and there’s a bittersweet feeling to that. It’s not just three months over the summer, but it’s the rest of their lives. Beca’s grateful to move away from classes and school, something she never wanted to begin with and she won’t have to share a small house with so many girls, but she knows her Brooklyn apartment with Chloe (and Amy) will feel infinitely more crowded.

She just knows she’s going to miss the things she complained about living in the Bella house.

She knows that Chloe picks up on her sadness because she gets a text while Chloe sits with the other graduating students while Beca sits next to Chloe’s parents.

> **Chloe** : _we still have worlds, baby. it’s not over yet!!!!_
> 
> **Beca** : _put your phone away, beale! you’re graduating in like two minutes._

It makes her smile regardless, because, yeah, they do have one more thing to do as the Barden Bellas.

* * *

Airports always meant absolute chaos for the Bellas before Beca was deaf and that was fine; she can manage Bellas chaos and it turns out that the lack of sound makes it _a lot_ easier to ignore the grumbling complaints and put her foot down. It’s less scolding and more pointed looks when Amy tries to veer off into the shops instead of staying put while Stacie and Chloe grab the girls' food. It also helps that Aubrey will be arriving shortly to join them. Still, Beca is relieved when they make it to Copenhagen.

They have time to tour around for the first day, so they set out a group to explore, which later turns into the group accidentally separating (a commonality just because there’s so many of them and they always want to see different things at the same time). They end up meeting at a pub later on and get drunk while eating food none of them can properly pronounce or even begin to understand what it is. It’s fine though because they end up stealing off each other's plates anyway except for Lily who everyone knows not to steal food from (this also applies to any potatoes, cheese or no cheese, Amy gets).

Their next day starts fairly early in the morning even though they’re set to perform in the evening they have to be there all day as per the requirement of the event. Jessica, Chloe, and Emily are the ones who are on a coffee run while everyone begrudgingly gets ready in the two rooms they have for the whole group of them. It’s incredibly tedious getting all the girls ready with two bathrooms, but they somehow manage to get onto a bus before 10 AM.

Being on the event grounds is surreal. They’re standing in front of the Bellas future whether or not it’s even allowed to be a thing anymore at little old Barden University. Although, arguably, Chloe and Beca have helped put it on the map for collegiate a cappella. Still, this is the end and perhaps all they have left.

Flo is already cartwheeling, or whatever it’s called (springing?) her way towards the stage and she’s still trying to get everyone’s lanyards around their necks that says they actually belong backstage. Chloe isn’t much help because she’s already figuring out which tent they belong in and walking away, to which Beca sighs heavily. She gestures vaguely at Aubrey who stares at her pointedly like she should be doing a better job.

When it’s finally their turn, hours later, and they’re dressed in their performance outfits she feels the weight that this really is the end of the Bellas.

Arms wrap around her middle and she knows it’s Chloe from the scent of the only hairspray Chloe likes using. Beca leans back into the hug, hands resting over Chloe’s and sighing. Lips press against the shell of her ear it’s that action that has her turning in Chloe’s arms to face her. Behind Chloe she can see the girls exiting to go on stage and when she looks back at Chloe, she sees Chloe’s equally watery eyes.

“ _What if I mess up_?”

Chloe laughs, Beca can see it in the way Chloe’s shoulders jerkily rise and then shake subtly; it’s in the curve her lips and how her blue eyes dart away from Beca’s face briefly.

“ _I’m serious_.” Beca thinks she raises her voice and she hopes she’s not yelling, but even if she is she knows Chloe isn’t going to take it personally.

Chloe’s lips press into a line, looking serious now. Her brow twitches up and then she gives Beca a pointed look as if to say she has nothing to worry about. The notion is confirmed in the way Chloe shakes her head and then places a kiss to her forehead.

Beca just sighs, “ _I wish I could hear you right now.”_ She shrugs and then smirks, “ _For someone whose kind of crazy you’re also, like, kind of comforting_.”

Chloe’s mouth drops and she shoves at Beca’s shoulder. Whatever words from her mouth, Beca can’t decipher any of it from the way Chloe’s lips move. A look of love replaces the mildly offended one and then Beca definitely knows what Chloe says after because she does so slowly. _“I love you.”_

Beca grips Chloe’s hand before she pulls them towards the stage, “ _I love you too_.”

Das Sound Machine tries to make threats at them when they’re there, or at least Beca thinks they do; she of course has no idea and truthfully she doesn’t care what’s being said. But, Kommissar is actually getting way too close to her and screw that, but she’s not about to say anything because–

“ _Your sweat smells like cinnamon_.” She desperately hopes she said that quietly, but judging by the eye roll she gets from Chloe, that’s not the case.

Not the cold making her feel under pressure around Kommissar apparently.

She huffs and she turns back to the Bellas and waits for Chloe to give the usual pep talk before they go onto the stage. She nods along to whatever Chloe’s saying because it just… feels right to do so, they’re co-captains after all.

The rest of the night is an absolute blur and Beca knows it’s the performance high that takes over her because she’s not sure when it ends, but suddenly they’re being ushered off the stage and the Bellas are jumping around, and Chloe’s kissing her and Emily is hugging her. Their faces are all flushed from the performance and Beca feels like she’s barely caught her breath before they’re back on stage accepting an award.

It’s over. The Bellas won first and soon enough they’re getting drunk at a club where Beca can make out the melody and the bass thrums through her entire body. They cry in their hungover states the next morning in the hotel room as they pack their bags and then cry all over again when they go their separate ways at the New York airport.

This is the end of the 2012 Barden Bellas.

# Five Years Later

Beca smiles, hands fumbling with the award. “Uh, wow,” she speaks into the microphone, “thank you.” She hates this, hates how she’s a fumbling mess on stage because everyone’s looking at her and expecting something amazing to fall from her mouth, like it isn’t going to be some rehearsed speech anyway.

She finds Chloe, finds her smiling back and giving a small nod; it gives her the courage to speak from her heart for a brief moment.

“ _Wow_ ,” she looks at the award, it’s a prop, but it shines in the light, and then Beca looks back to the audience. “ _I have to set this down, I’m sorry_.” She places the prop on the floor by her feet so she can sign and talk, “ _I lost my hearing in college, something I’ve been pretty private about, but I think it’s important for people to know and see if they don’t already know. Um, representation is important for everyone that we see and hear a diversity of people on this stage. Of course, this award is beyond amazing, I didn’t think I’d ever stand here like this with_ -” she gestures to her ears, “ _and I wanna thank everyone who’s been a part of this amazing rollercoaster, but mostly, I want to thank my wife, Chloe and my Bella family._ ” Beca finds Chloe in the audience again and smiles, hands pausing their rapid movements. She wishes she could’ve gotten all of the Bellas here but that wouldn’t have been feasible. “ _I would not be standing here without you and your support. Thank you_.” It’s with the final thank you that Beca picks the prop back up and makes her way back off the stage and behind the curtain hiding everyone running the show and musicians who are up next.

Her heart is racing against her chest and she feels like she’s had a weird combination of Amy’s mixer drinks with a soft high. Her legs aren’t moving fast enough, but she also feels like she’s going to trip over herself. She hands off the prop trophy to a woman already reaching for it and somehow her heart feels like it races faster as she makes her way back to Chloe. She doesn’t care what she sounded like, she had only rehearsed the speech a few times in front of Chloe because it felt like a build-up of something that may not even happen. And, even though it did and maybe years ago she would have cared, she doesn’t; not right now. She’s going to keep riding this high wave because she just won a _Grammy_. Granted it won’t be in her hands until much later because the real one has to be engraved, but there is going to be a Grammy sitting in her shared house with Chloe. A Grammy she had thought she’d never get all those years ago when she was still in college first experiencing her new world.

She doesn’t realize how hard she’s smiling until she’s being redirected by several people and she has no idea what they’re saying, at least not until her interpreter comes running up to explain the press wants photos and then she’s allowed to return to her seat.

There are disadvantages to being deaf; she can’t hear music the same way, not every YouTube show she and Chloe like to watch has viable subtitles so she’s left to either ask Chloe or figure it out, and of course there are always limitations in who she can communicate with. The list could of course go on, but there are also advantages like the fact that currently Beca can’t hear the press yelling or asking questions about what she said on stage.

Regardless of the list of advantages or disadvantages being deaf is just who she is now and that’s okay. She has the support of her parents, Chloe, and the Bellas, so when she gets home with Chloe they immediately arrive at hers and Chloe’s Bella family surprising them with a party, it really doesn’t feel like that much of a surprise, but she’ll bite.

“ _I won a Grammy bitches_!” She yells and she knows by just looking they’re all yelling in celebration with her as Amy pops open a bottle of champagne all over the clean floors, but Beca really can’t bring herself to care. Emily is animatedly signing at her and Cynthia-Rose is squeezing her in a bone-crushing hug while Jessica and Ashley try to sign at her as well.

She’s deaf and she’s never been happier.


End file.
